


i guess i'm stuck with me

by moonvalentine



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4653735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonvalentine/pseuds/moonvalentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're both used to being quiet, socially inept, and alone. Maybe now they can do so together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Aburame clan had a long history of scaring the living shit out of the people of Konoha simply by existing. 

Indeed, their nature was not for the faint of heart. Insects could throw even the most strong-willed humans into pure panic—the fear seemed to be ingrained into the laws of human biology itself. If anyone else, any clan less intimidating or any shinobi less worth their salt, offered their newborn children as hosts for chakra parasites, they would surely be shunned entirely by the rest of the village.

But the lives of ninja were strange anyway, and so the Aburame family was only regarded with the highest respect—if induced mostly out of mild horror, lack of understanding of their bodies’ mechanics, and knowledge of their fighting prowess.

When Shino first saw the tiny beetles crawl across his body, tickling the plump skin around his stomach and short infant arms, he thought they were the most amazing things he’d ever seen.

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His eyesight was poor to begin with, and the sunglasses didn’t help.

Thankfully, though, Iruka-sensei assigned him to a seat in the front row on his first day at the academy. Shino preferred the front of the class as it was, especially since it would keep him away from the rowdier kids who occupied the back of the room. He wasn’t there to make friends; he would study diligently, train even harder, and then graduate to genin. 

When it was announced that graduating meant they would be put into teams based on their grades and performance, Shino was determined to work harder. True shinobi, intelligent and talented shinobi, would only appreciate his gifts rather than run away screaming—that was what his parents had ingrained into him.

His seat at the front helped him focus on the teacher during his first weeks as a student rather than the ill-spirited snickers and whispers behind him. They hardly affected him anyway, those sharp whistles of words against his back. 

It was fine. He wasn’t there to make friends.

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Whenever spring weather started to make its appearance after a long winter, Iruka-sensei loved taking his students out to spend near-entire class days outside. Konoha was blessed with generally warm, pleasant weather, and the teacher claimed it boosted morale all around. 

During lunch and break time, the students separated off into their own groups. Most of the girls tended to linger by the flower bushes, while the boys exchanged comic books and playfully roughhoused by the swings and monkey bars. There were a few kids who strayed along the edges by themselves—namely one Uzumaki Naruto, who was always trying to stir up some trouble. Shino preferred to keep to himself and ate his lunch beneath a huge, fragrant tree, sometimes picking its verdant leaves off the ground and arranging them for his bugs to play on.

The cool air of the morning had bloomed into a steady and mild heat. Beneath Shino’s hood and high collar, he was uncomfortably warm and longed to unzip his jacket; the only thing beneath it was his mesh shirt. He could almost feel the way the air would hit his sweat-coated skin. He even reached for the zipper in front of the tip of his nose, not worried about whether anyone would see the marks from where bugs could slip out from beneath his skin.

The zipper was not even an inch past his mouth when a few boys approached him, kicking their feet against the grass just hard enough to spray dirt on the remains of Shino’s lunch. 

“‘Sup, Aburame?” one of them sneered, hands in his pockets. “Got a beehive under there?”

The rest of the posse chuckled behind him. “Yeah,” another started haughtily, “your cockroach den getting a little too warm?”

Shino sat calmly with his hands rested on his lap, convincing himself he was finished with his food before these kids had come to bother him. His immobile silence and his lack of reaction spurred them on further. 

“I bet your house is like a trashcan. Your whole clan probably smells like old food and sewage. That’s why those nasty bugs always hang around, isn’t it?” This boy laughed and high-fived another. Shino still refused to budge. 

“Freak. Look at him, sitting out here with his stupid ants because no one else wants to be around him.”

“No wonder you’re always alone, dude. You don’t bathe and you’re creepy.” 

“Too bad your mom’s dead and isn’t there to—”

“You should know better than to make me angry.”

Every boy in the group was immediately silent and wide-eyed. Shino, behind his sunglasses, still held a neutral expression, as though he’d said nothing at all.

“What did you just say?” the first boy asked in a tone which suggested wavering bravado.

“I said,” the Aburame began firmly, “you should know better than to make me angry.”

The boys looked at each other warily, wondering if they should continue their insulting spree or dash. The one in the front crossed his arms and shifted on either foot, staring at Shino’s motionless form—until he noticed the wave of black in the grass flowing toward him and his cohorts.

“Guys! Quiz time!” Iruka-sensei called from across the field, which caused the group of boys to jump in surprise. They turned to find him waving and beckoning them back to the classroom door. Instantly, they all broke into a sprint, one of them even tripping with a pathetic shout in his haste to get away from the boy under the tree.

After a silent moment of watching everyone line up and reenter the academy building, Shino willed his beetles back to him, waiting for each of them to find their way back into his system before standing and brushing grass off his clothes. He collected the remainder of his lunch, now sprinkled in small mounds of dirt, and made his way toward where Iruka smiled and held the door open, waiting for his last student to come inside.

If Iruka noticed Shino dropping the entire dirty lunchbox, still full of rice and poorly-chopped raw vegetables, into the trash bin, he didn’t say so. 

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Christmas was Shino’s least favorite time of year. His parents had never really celebrated it, insisting that rewarding Shino for hard work as he earned it was better than waiting until the end of the year—a tradition his father fully adhered to, especially since he was usually away on missions during this time. It left what should have been an otherwise fun day quite annoying and inconsequential, full of freezing temperatures and excessive decorations.

It was so cold some days that he could have sworn his bugs were trembling where they sat dormant around his bones. He spent the winter school days wishing he could go home, study new species, and take naps under the kotatsu in the living room. If his dad were home, maybe they could take a small trip toward Suna and enjoy some warmer weather while observing some desert bugs. Soon enough, the boy was counting down the hours until school was out.

Finally, on the last day before their week-long Christmas break, Shino was about to get his wish. The moment class was dismissed, he diligently tucked each of his books and pens into his bag and moved to lift it over his shoulder.

Of course, though, he wasn’t that lucky. The other students dashed down the classroom stairs to Iruka’s desk where he and some other chuunin were setting food out on tables. Internally, Shino suppressed a groan—he’d forgotten all about the class Christmas party. If he was careful, perhaps he could sneak past the teachers and make his way home.

Somehow or another, Shino got roped into staying for the duration of the party. No one spoke to him, though he spotted Iruka glancing at him from across the room, smiling politely when he got caught looking after him. Whenever he tried to make his way over, however, Naruto and Inuzuka Kiba continually occupied him with their poor attempts at a distraction jutsu to steal the elaborate tree-shaped cake made by Akimichi Chouji’s mother. 

The other children in class had learned not to bother Shino, opting instead to shun him from a distance. It seemed as though unbeknownst to him, someone had spread a rumor that his insects crawled out when food was around, and so naturally everyone found a seat on the complete opposite side of the room. Because of this, he’d spent the last hour and a half in a seat by the door reading an encyclopedia of his father’s, and had not even thought to touch the food or festivities.

While everyone else was laughing, singing Christmas songs, teasing each other, and having a wonderful time, Shino never felt more ready to go home. There was a strangely hollow feeling that had settled between his stomach and his chest that was most definitely not hunger. He suddenly and deeply longed for the privacy of his own bedroom, so he moved again to pick up his school bag. 

“Shino-kun?” a small, gentle voice sounded from beside him. The proximity of it surprised him, and he turned to find a girl holding a plate of delicately arranged party food out toward him.

She had the strangest eyes, a pale lavender iris against flawless white, and she stood close enough for him to see how her dark eyelashes softly framed them. Her face was a glowing moon against the inky violet night of her hair. _Hyuuga Hinata_ , his mind supplied as he watched her shoulders hunch self-consciously. _The heiress of the Hyuuga clan._

“Yes?” The second he replied, the girl’s faced flushed, color spreading slowly over her lily-white nose and cheeks. 

She stuck her arm out further toward him, offering him the paper plate, which he took with slight trepidation and placed on the surface of his desk. 

“Um,” she clasped her hands in front of her before bowing slightly, “Merry Christmas, Shino-kun. S-see you in the new year!” She smiled nervously, though rather elegantly, and walked quickly back to the other side of the classroom. Shino tore his eyes away from her retreating figure and turned them to what she’d given him.

The plate was full of food—a perfectly square slice of sponge cake with a thick swirl of green and white icing, a toothpick holding miniature dango glazed in dark syrup, sliced winter fruit, some tamagoyaki, and a crisp golden brown goma dango. It was all positioned carefully where nothing touched anything else, even though the plate was small. Shino hadn’t even noticed that the girl had brought utensils as well until he saw them laying next to his hand. 

It took several minutes of staring at the food before he could convince himself to eat any of it. When he did, he was sure, without exaggeration, it was the best thing he had ever tasted. He felt warm throughout his whole body, spreading steadily and then all at once as the last bites hit his stomach.

As he walked home, he remembered the way her hands trembled as she extended her arm to him. Instead of focusing on why they were shaking so much, though, all he could think about was how the tiny nanosecond of her fingertips brushing against his hand was the first physical contact he’d ever had with anyone outside his family.

His fingers flexed into a comfortable curl inside his coat pocket, and for once he hardly noticed the chilly December breeze against his face.

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	2. Chapter 2

Though slightly disappointed that the top student Uchiha wasn’t on his team, Shino calmly awaited the names of his fellow teammates. After today, he would finally feel like he was achieving something real and fulfilling his purpose as a member of the Aburame clan. His nerves buzzed with anticipation from the moment he’d woken up.

After the graduation ceremony, the students waited in the classroom to meet their jounin sensei. When a tall brunette with blood-red eyes stepped in the room, her odd attire intriguing and her presence subtle but commanding, he was pleased to hear his name come from her mouth. He was ambivalent, however, when the next two names she called were Hinata and Kiba. 

When the four of them settled in a quiet spot of a training field to introduce themselves, Shino felt a slight flare of worry in the pit of his stomach. These two kids were basically stuck with him now—how would they react to his hiden techniques? Surely, they had to know already. The foreign sensation of insecurity seeped through him for a long moment. 

After some conversation, and an expectedly suggestive comment from Kiba about how his goal was Kurenai-sensei herself, Shino presented the facts about himself: his name, his age, his goal to become a powerful jounin of the Aburame clan, and the nature of the gift of his hiden. He expected them all to cringe, or at least try to hide their disgust with little success.

Instead, he was met with an satisfied nod from his teacher, a kind smile from Hinata, and indifference from Kiba, who scratched Akamaru’s belly as they laid in the grass together.

“If the insects are a problem for you, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I can conceal them at will.” Shino felt the statement a necessary peace offering on his part, though he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I’m…not scared of bugs,” Hinata uttered, her voice barely carrying in the soft wind.

“No biggie for me either, bro.” Kiba rolled onto his stomach and Akamaru promptly imitated the motion. “I live in a house full of dogs. A few fleas never hurt anyone, right Akamaru?” The dog barked amiably in response.

Kurenai looked over her three students in an approving manner. “That won’t be necessary, Shino-kun. I know about your family’s history, and your powers will be a great service to Konoha, especially as you climb in the ranks. We’ll be an outstanding tracking team at this rate with all three of your combined skills.”

Shino nodded, the relief so strong his limbs were numb. “Good to hear,” he said under his breath, the understatement of the century.

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Unlike everyone else, Shino had never underestimated the strength and talents of his teammates. Yes, he sometimes wondered at the intelligence and social graces of Kiba, but had quickly learned that the three of them were an unlikely yet seamless match.

After months of training, traveling, and battling together, they had watched each other develop and improve, both physically and mentally. Shino was composed and rational as always, but was becoming faster and even more precise in his movements and decisions. Kiba had learned to tame some of his headstrong rashness, and Hinata had become at least a small source of pride for her clan when she’d apparently been seen as a talentless disgrace before.

As the months went by, the Aburame found himself increasingly wondering how someone like Hinata could ever be seen as a disappointment. She was modest, poised, and kind to her core—something that could rarely be said of any ninja. Hinata was a determined and passionate person who was willing to fight to protect, even if she looked as though she belonged in her estate’s tea room rather than the battlefield. Simply put, Shino admired her greatly, and knew Kiba thoroughly appreciated her presence on their team as well.

So when the Hyuuga heiress came to them one day requesting to train with her without holding back, without going easy on her, the only thing they could do was give her a resounding _yes_. It was the least she deserved.

It was a slow going, trying to get her to break out of her timid shell and her desire not to harm her teammates, but since Kiba didn’t mind roughing around and Shino was definitely interested in adding to the team’s collective power, Hinata finally seemed to start growing truly into her own. Her hesitant confidence added to her speed, her might, her motivation to find her place as a kunoichi.

She _finally_ managed to hit Shino during a spar a few weeks later; it was a light tap against his face, but her unique chakra abilities caused a bruise to bloom under his eye and seep painfully into his cheekbone with a sharp cracking sound. When he fell hard enough to dent the earth beneath him, Hinata was horrified.

“Oh _no._ ” Her byakugan deactivated which left her skin smooth again and her eyes misty, though worry wrinkled her forehead. Shino rose from where he lay to see her crouching by him with her hand in front of her mouth. “Shino-kun, I’m so sorry! I was…I was just…” 

He adjusted his sunglasses where they had become crooked and felt the muscles in his cheeks pull up of their own discretion. It was a rare occurrence for Shino to smile, so Hinata’s confusion at his expression wasn’t completely unwarranted. His cheek smarted when his mouth curved into a grin. The unfamiliar gesture felt odd but good.

“Don’t apologize,” Shino told her in his steady voice. “I’m proud of you.”

Hinata’s face blushed a powdery pink, soft and light as cotton candy, before she beamed brightly back at him and smiled enough to show her teeth. Her pale eyes shimmered in the rays of sun that filtered through the trees. _Teamwork._ Just like that, their team dynamic settled more comfortably than ever. They were on even ground, working together, trusting each other, building each other up—and in that moment, it was the simplest, most natural thing in the world.

“That means a lot to me,” she whispered, and he knew it did.

Shino spent the rest of the afternoon lounging in the grass of the training field, nursing his bruise with an ice pack while Kiba and Akamaru play-fought with Hinata, and marveling at the uncanny lightness that came with making someone else happy.

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When Naruto had been gone from the village for over a year, Kiba felt an itch that even Akamaru’s claws couldn’t scratch away. His impulse for aggressive fun and crude antics only grew in his wingman’s absence, and so Hinata often took it upon herself to invite her teammates and their sensei over for specialized training, bonding time, and delicately crafted snacks. The unspoken understanding was that she felt the effects of Naruto’s time away just as strongly.

Shino didn’t particularly care for the Uzumaki boy—it wasn’t that he disliked him; rather, he had no opinion on him other than that his strength and potential were undeniable. Shino could always recognize a viable opponent or ally when he saw one and when they deserved it.

For this reason, though, he couldn’t understand what made Hinata and Kiba so miserable from the lack of Naruto. The Aburame, especially before joining Team Eight, tended to see the world somewhat clinically; things were either good or bad, black or white. Before he’d become a member of his team, he’d been alone. No mother, no Torune, his father nearly always away for work, his classmates always avoiding him like the plague. There were no real ups and downs in his life, just a steady static, an existence that was not fit for normality, an acceptance that life was gray and rather bland. Only the bugs he nested inside him to keep him company. But now, it had all changed.

Kiba was a streak of red—quite literally so when Akamaru was in fighting form—and boisterous laughter that echoed in his bones. He was as keen as his canine teeth and his bark was as fierce as his bite. In every way, Kiba was his foil. If someone had told him a year ago that the two of them would be as close of friends as Shino was capable of, that they would be sticking up for each other and trusting each other with their lives, he wouldn’t dared have believed them. And yet, here he was, sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of Hinata’s training studio with Akamaru sleeping in his lap and marking his pants with white fur. A year ago, he wouldn’t have touched a dog in the first place, mostly because no one would’ve let him.

Hinata was a cool, refreshing balm to his nerves—especially after long missions with Kiba. She desired peace and respect for others above all else, even above her own self-worth. It was easy to see how much she cared for the people she loved; it shook her hands and her voice when she defended them and it lifted the corners of her lips when she laid her eyes on them. She was as hopeful and promising as the sunrise and had come to be as calm and reliable as dusk. She somehow managed to keep her sweet, childlike purity of heart even after training and fighting to kill. She was the first friend he’d ever really had, and sometimes when he looked at her, he swore he could still taste the icing from the Christmas cake under his tongue. 

They were his friends. They were the only people who accepted him wholly, insects and all, and with sincerity that tugged at a place inside his chest if he thought too long about it. It all had changed.

But when the two of them got to talking about Naruto, and they walked away or chatted on as if they’d forgotten entirely about their teammate, Shino couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it hadn’t after all.

It was a creeping, awful insecurity of his, a weakness he didn’t know how to shake. When Kiba and Hinata left him by the wayside for someone who wasn’t even there, as much as he dreaded admitting it, he felt a pang deep in his system that left him feeling heavy and slow.

He wasn’t like Naruto, bursting at the seams with life itself and embracing everything and everyone that came his way. Shino knew his personality, his value, and his place in the world. But when he was alone again with his thoughts, he occasionally wondered if Kiba and Hinata would miss him just as much, if it all, if he were away for so long.

Instead of dwelling on it, he simply closed his eyes behind his tinted glasses and patiently waited for his teammates to drift back his way.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoiler alert: neji doesn't die in any of my stories.

Sarutobi Asuma had been a sort of lynchpin for the village of Konoha, and no one had really become aware of it until after he was dead.

With his murder came chilling fear and an overwhelming sense of defeat. It loomed over the hundreds of people and fellow shinobi who attended his funeral, not to mention the civilians and restaurant owners who adored him just the same. It was a collective grief that spread to the furthest, darkest corners of the village. 

Team Kurenai felt it intensely, especially when they found out she was pregnant with his child. Kiba’s reaction was to go find the bastard who had the audacity to take Asuma out at all, because who in their right mind would kill someone who was in love with his teacher? Hinata tried to soothe Kurenai with warm embraces, homemade meals, and soft-spoken words of comfort. Shino empathized deeply with his teacher, understanding the nightmare her life must have become, and promised to do anything he could for her and their team.

Eventually, though, Shikamaru assumed duty as Kurenai’s grief counselor, even if he too was grieving for his teacher and one of his dearest friends. It had to have been unspeakably difficult for him, even after singlehandedly slaying the man who’d killed Asuma. Shino found it in himself to be grateful that Kurenai was still alive even while it seemed that she’d rather be anything but.

Things had hesitantly slowed around Konoha soon after, and while Kurenai was understandably out of commission until the dust settled, her students had nothing else to do but wait for assignments. Tsunade was being extremely selective with the missions she doled out as it was, so Team Eight learned after a week not to expect anything more than simple courier tasks until further notice.

Once again, Hinata felt it necessary to invite Kiba and Shino to her home often; the Hyuuga’s status as the most elite clan in Konoha afforded them the luxury of private training areas, advanced and immediate medical treatment if necessary, and some of the best food the two boys had ever eaten. Since she seemed to have her own entire portion of the estate, they weren’t bothered by Hanabi or Hinata’s father unless absolutely necessary (much to their collective relief).

Sometimes, after an afternoon of training or independent studying, Shino felt compelled to visit the elaborate garden in the courtyard of the Hyuuga grounds. There wasn’t much to see in the way of wildlife (read: insects) thanks to the excellent upkeep, but bugs weren’t the only thing he studied—in fact, plants were an element of the world he simply had to know about, as they went hand in hand with his main interest. Much to his delight, the flowers and plant species dwelling in the garden were abundant and ripe for the observing.

Shino always strolled rather slowly through the open space, breathing in the heady green air and stopping every so often to caress a petal or leaf with the pad of his thumb. The textures and colors were somehow stimulating and calming all at once; the effect was a nearly bewitching combination that allowed him to study each plant without disturbance and with his full attention.

He was always calm, inside and out, but here he was at peace. He sometimes felt as though he were the only person in Konoha who appreciated the work put into such a beautiful spot.

One day, however, a strange noise alerted Shino to another presence in the garden. He’d been so transfixed by the new row of brilliant black bearded irises that he hadn’t even registered any other chakra signatures. Immediately he was stiff and crouched low by a hydrangea bush, careful not to make a single sound as he surveyed the narrow space between the taller, thicker trees and the wall of the house.

Shockingly enough, what Shino found wasn’t a random intruder or one of the Hyuuga elders lurking around. It was Tenten and Neji, Hinata’s cousin, standing close enough to each other that they only cast one shadow on the wall.

They were clearly in their own world, safe and private behind the fronds of huge ferns. Neither was wearing their hitai-ate; their hair was slightly disheveled and the Hyuuga’s branch seal was visible on his forehead. He was tucking buttery yellow pansies into Tenten’s hair while she smiled serenely at him, occasionally arching her neck to kiss him on the cheek or closed eyelids. Neji seemed to be blushing—probably the last thing Shino would ever associate with him—but the two looked incomparably blissful. It was difficult to look away from their sweet display of affection. 

When they leaned down to kiss each other, however, Shino promptly withdrew and dashed out as quickly and silently as possible. He’d intruded on them long enough, clearly, and interrupting the moment would be extremely embarrassing for the both of them. Obviously he hadn’t been meant to see that—no one had. 

He dashed down the open-air halls of the Hyuuga home with a strange discomfort coursing through his veins. That, to his knowledge, may have been the first time he’d ever witnessed something even remotely romantic.

Obviously, he’d never been one for love stories and opted for scientific texts over much else. His mother had died when he was young, and his parents weren’t the outwardly affectionate type to begin with. Kurenai and Asuma had always kept their feelings and meetings completely out of the public eye, too, and they were really the only other adults he knew who were involved in such a way.

 _Love._ His mind sampled the word, swirling it back and forth to get used to the unfamiliar concept. It had to be a pretty marvelous thing to reduce someone as cold and cerebral as Neji to a tender, blushing fool. Tenten, too, had turned from no-nonsense weapon wielder to giving kisses like a butterfly. Shino could hardly wrap his head around it—what could be worth becoming so vulnerable and intimate, attaching yourself to someone so wholly it diminished your entire self?

It seemed nerve-wracking, and quite honestly a little unnecessary. Friendship was more than he’d ever expected to handle and it alone felt like enough for him. There were enough ups and downs with having friends, subtle as they might be, to make him feel like he needed a strategic formula just to keep his head above water.

The image of the couple in the garden resurfaced at the forefront of his thoughts. Shino couldn’t deny how happy they looked, even if they had to hide for a stolen moment or two. It was all so… _foreign_ to him. He attempted to picture himself weaving flowers into someone’s hair and nearly cringed. It didn’t seem like something he was capable of, nor something that he felt compelled to do—and besides, what kind of person would volunteer be a willing recipient of his affections? The whole thing seemed silly and frivolous. Especially given his profession. Ninja had enough to deal with in the first place, and everything in life resulted in death anyway.

But the more he thought about it, the more it piqued his curiosity. What was so good about love that it made even the toughest ninja weak in the knees? Haruno Sakura had become one of the strongest kunoichi he knew, and yet she still deeply longed for Sasuke’s return enough to physically depress her. Kurenai and Asuma fell in love and created life together, knowing the risks that came with both their professions. Hinata had so much feeling in her heart for Naruto that it drove her to hone her skills and reach beyond her potential. Love itself was a force of nature, one that Shino had yet to study or learn about for himself.

He recalled Hinata’s countless fainting spells, Sakura’s silly antics to get Sasuke’s attention, and Kurenai’s palpable hurt when she’d heard about Asuma, and decided it wasn’t for him. It was for the best that he wasn’t a part of such strange, overpowering forces to make him weak and distract him from his duties.

However, over the next few weeks, he tiptoed throughout the beautiful Hyuuga gardens as he studied and observed its contents. Shino surprised himself a few times by hoping he might stumble upon another glimpse into the life of people who loved deeply and truly, and was even more startled to realize he may not mind such a moment for himself.


	4. Chapter 4

It was amazing how well people could pretend that things were normal.

There was a war coming. Any shinobi with merit could sense it on the horizon, smell it in the wind that blew over Konoha. Shino felt it like a rock in the pit of his stomach, one he was unable to crush into pieces easy enough to digest.

Somehow, though, everyone else could. Maybe they were simply trying to enjoy what potentially were their last moments before the fight struck and the enemy closed in. Shino wished he could do the same, to let go of the horrible anticipation that resided within him. It was the first time he'd actually been scared of something; he didn't like not having at least an idea of what he was up against. If the Akatsuki had been any indication, there wouldn't be an easy way out. He reasoned that it was a good thing he'd never been the type to take the easy way out to begin with.

It was also a good thing, in his opinion, that no one took too much notice of him anyway. It saved him from having to explain what was eating at him, from showing any weakness in the face of danger, from dampening everyone's faux high spirits with the awful truth. Those days he'd had enough of pretending.

It surprised him, then, that Hinata took notice. It shouldn't have—she was his teammate; he always sensed when her mood was off, so it should have been expected that she'd take the same notice of him. With all of the recent events, however, and with Naruto at the forefront of it all, it was only natural that Shino fade into the background again. He was comfortable there, enough to know better than to waste his energy on resenting anyone who left him behind, no matter how hard he tried to keep up.

Shino reclined in the soft grass of his backyard and watched his beetles climb up a tree, his bare feet resting at its base and sunglasses resting on his forehead. The insects moved in curved lines, weaving black paths up the trunk with their backs shining in the dim evening light. He could feel the cool dampness drifting over from the pond settling onto his skin. Ants occasionally ran over his arms, pattering like raindrops down his skin. Fireflies floated around the yard, ghosted across his ankles, tiny wings tickling his skin where their soft glow illuminated his pale skin yellow-green. It was a shame other people couldn't see bugs for the way they made his world come to life, so beautiful and pure and whole.

He supposed he belonged with them, those off-putting creatures who only wanted to do what they were made for; though unlike him, they were never alone. They always had hundreds, if not thousands, with them. They had nests and hives and colonies, not to mention entire species behind them.

Shino sighed just as he sensed a presence at the back porch, instinctively tapping his glasses back down to their usual position. As he stood up the world went back to its usual gray duskiness around him.

"Shino," his father called, "Hyuuga Hinata is here to see you."

His hands paused where they'd been brushing his pants of grass and dirt. He immediately rolled his sleeves back down and felt the beetles crowd near his feet, then crawl beneath his pant legs. "I'll be there in a moment." His father nodded and turned to go back inside.

Through the open door, Shino could see the distinct silhouette of his teammate, her shoulders hunched inward as if she were cocooned. This was one of a small handful of times she'd been to his home and perhaps the first time she'd been inside of it. He knew she had to be exceptionally uncomfortable in the unfamiliar environment.

"Hello, Hinata-san," he greeted as he stepped through the doorway, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Her posture was rigid, but her slightly-flushed face held a pleasant smile.

"Shino-kun," she even waved a hand briefly before gripping her purse in front of her again. He noticed her casual clothing, a light purple shirt and dark blue skirt, as well as elegant, ornately woven silver sandals. Clearly she hadn't come for training or to relay a new mission. "I was hoping we could all go for a team dinner, since we have the night off…" Her pale eyes trailed to his father's general direction; he'd taken to the kitchen table to read the newspaper. "Un…unless you're busy, of course. I…"

"Sure," he replied with his usual neutral tone and Hinata visibly relaxed. "I should change first, though. Please come to my room." He really thought she'd be more comfortable waiting outside than anything, but that felt somewhat rude, so he offered the next best alternative he could think of.

"Oh," the flush crept further up her cheeks, "that's…"

When Shino realized why she was embarrassed, he cleared his throat with a stunning lack of grace. "You can wait there while I change in my closet, if you like."

"Oh!" Hinata grasped the handles of her purse enough to turn her knuckles snow white and laughed awkwardly. "Okay! Great!"

"This way," he motioned toward the hall and she followed him with small footsteps. In situations such as these, he was strongly reminded of their genin days when Hinata hadn't been able to utter a word without becoming self-conscious enough to nearly faint. Something about it poked in the center of his chest, a twinge that was separate from the terrible feeling residing just south in his stomach. Not necessarily nostalgia, but something vaguely like it.

When they reached his room, he went straight to the closet after offering her a seat in his desk chair. Since she wasn't wearing a speck of ninja gear, he decided to do the same and chose a long-sleeved shirt and dark pants. All of his clothes, save for some undershirts and other undergarments, were dark and covered as much skin as possible.

He was aware of how unsettling his body must look to those outside his clan—he was covered little red-purple scars, thin scratches along every inch of skin below the neck; there were a few misshapen holes, covered like scabs, in the most vital points for the insects to escape and attack. Since he'd mastered his craft, some of the markings had gotten less noticeable, but he found himself being careful to cover himself around non-clan members. It was also a precaution he took for the health of his insects—more clothing meant less susceptibility to infections as well as physical attacks.

He forewent his hitae-ate and instead let his coarse hair push straight back from his forehead. A blade of grass or two fell from it as he exited his closet.

Hinata was looking at his multitude of terrariums on the long table beneath the window. Shino had spent months crafting each to perfection. Some were full of red and brilliant turquoise succulents from trips to Suna; others contained thick, healthy green mosses and ferns surrounded by dark soil. There was one in the center which Hinata stared intently at that contained several tall orchids.

Shino walked over to join her in her study. "Those are sympodial orchids of the Cymbidium genus."

"Ah," Hinata nodded slowly, brow furrowed. He felt the need to clear his throat again.

"They're very similar to the ones at your estate. Especially these white ones."

Her eyes lit up. "I recognize them now. My mom was the one who planted them in our garden." A serene smile relaxed her face as she reached forward to caress a petal beneath gentle fingertips. He marveled at how tender she was with everything around her, still, after all they'd seen and had yet to see; how she could fight just as hard as the rest of them and stay so good to her core.

"Your mother has excellent taste," Shino offered, then watched as she slowly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I, um…I miss her a lot." Her thumb ran over the orchid petal again though her eyes were cast toward the surface of the table. "I…she…when I was little…"

Shino was admittedly a bit surprised, though it made sense to him—he'd never heard of her mother or seen her around their compounds, and Hinata hardly ever mentioned her if at all.

"My mother died when I was young too." His voice was low and even as always, especially in his silent room, though softer than he was used to. "I'm not sure I remember her. My vision of her was most likely formed by everything my father's told me rather than my own memories. You're lucky, I think, to have memories of your mother."

Hinata's eyes fixed on him then, wide and deep behind their misty irises. "Shino-kun…"

He found it somewhat remarkable that after years of being in each other's company he and Hinata hardly knew the most essential elements of each other's lives. Here she was inside his home for the first time since they'd known each other—almost for a decade now, if he counted the academy—and they hadn't even known that their only living parents were their fathers, despite their notoriety as members of respected Konoha clans. Perhaps it was because they were both quite reserved and private, especially when compared to Kiba, who announced everything happening in his life down to the timing of his bowel movements. In any case, he reasoned that while not all parts of life were meant to be shared, it felt necessary in friendship to divulge the important aspects of one's life. It felt necessary in keeping that closeness, that unbreakable bond of trust.

"I do know that my mother enjoyed botany as well, though that isn't necessarily why I chose to study it in my free time." A pebble was out of place under a jade crassula ovata plant which he adjusted with his pinkie finger. There was a long pause between the two of them.

"I admire your dedication to your interests," Hinata finally whispered, a light blush returning to her face as she stumbled over the words for a moment. "I wish I liked and enjoyed things the way you do, Shino-kun. You…you make ordinary things become interesting…and you notice the details in everything." Her finger traced a nervous pattern at the inside of her elbow.

Shino blinked behind his glasses. He'd always thought his constant dissecting and overanalyzing of the world, his one great compulsion, was an annoyance to those around him. He had never considered it the way Hinata described. Caught in his thoughts, the color of his face began to match hers.

"Oh," he replied eloquently. "Thank you, Hinata-san."

She smiled at him, and he remembered the anxiety that had been plaguing him for days, weeks on end, and could almost see it melt away beneath the sincerity in her kindness.

They left the house soon after to pick up their fellow teammate and teacher, both quiet as usual, though Shino was lost in thought and a burst of feeling. Maybe it wasn't so hard to pretend that things were okay, that they would be fine in the end.

When he wasn't alone, and when he felt the euphoric rush of someone understanding him for the first time, it somehow didn't feel like pretending at all.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the gap in updates. midterms have been kicking my butt.


	5. Chapter 5

If Shino stared at the campfire long enough, he could begin to imagine that they were back on one of their C-rank missions with Kurenai, or taking a break from finding some tracking bugs in an endless forest. He felt more at ease trying to picture it which was difficult with all the noise around him.

The group assigned with retrieving Itachi and Sasuke—too many people, in his opinion, though it was just his team and another—were gathered in a makeshift camp for the night. Tensions ran high from their earlier encounter with an extremely strange Akatsuki member. No one knew if he would be making his way back to ambush them or if they were safe at least for the night, and a panicked giddiness settled over the team. People sat around the fire eating their rations and chatting loudly, rapidly.

So much for staying discreet. The thought made Shino nervous, bugs buzzing and milling around beneath his muscles.

He saw Naruto accidentally step too close to the fire, lighting his pants in flames which a scowling Yamato immediately tampered. He watched as Kakashi circled the camp with his ninken as though he were on a Sunday afternoon stroll. He watched as Sakura and Sai interacted with each other, laughing and discussing their respective jutsu.

Overwhelmed by the constant whir of activity, Shino situated himself on the edge of the camp, just far enough not to fall in the shadows with the warmth of the fire's light still flickering over his legs. He realized that there was a difference between being lonely, being alone, and now wanting to be alone. It was the single thing that grounded him and kept his head from spinning with all the new information on their enemy swirling chaotically through his mind.

Kiba and Hinata eventually walked over to join him, finally breaking away from the hilarity of Naruto's half-screamed stories about Jiraiya and Sakura's not-so-empty threats of knocking him senseless. His teammates' presence, familiar and comforting, was the only one he welcomed that night.

Kiba sat cross-legged on the ground in front him as Akamaru trotted to lay behind his owner's head. Hinata situated herself next to Shino to rest her back against the same tree. Their positions surrounded him, enclosed him, but even in his state of anxiety, the effects of it did nothing to trap him. Instead, a sense of relief washed over him, slowly rolling through his stiffened body. Perhaps they'd known he needed the company even if he hadn't been aware of it himself.

"What's up, Lone Ranger?" Kiba snickered at Shino, reaching a hand behind himself to pat his dog.

"Kiba-kun," Hinata whispered worriedly. Kiba only grinned at her, canine tooth snagging at his lower lip, before tapping a fist on Shino's leg to prompt his answer.

"I'm hoping to analyze our enemy based on details we gathered earlier." He pushed his glasses further upward on his nose. "Hinata-san, did your byakugan pick up any anomalies—"

A bothered groan sounded from Kiba, then Akamaru responded with his own. "Relax, man. Let Kakashi-sensei and the toy soldier figure that crap out."

"Toy soldier?" Hinata and Shino asked at the same time, glancing at each other.

"Yeah, you know, that…wood dude." He sniffed and spun a kunai around his finger.

"Yamato-senpai is not actually made of wood, Kiba," Shino said plainly, "he is a shinobi who specializes in mokuton-related jutsu."

"I knew that!" The statement was more of a growl and his defensiveness drew a quiet giggle from Hinata. "Anyway, Naruto wouldn't shut up about how cool your bug attacks are, so Hinata and me thought we'd come and make sure your head wasn't gettin' too big."

Shino paused at the mention of compliments. Naruto had been excited in the heat of the moment during their fight, but since Shino hadn't been completely successful in his execution, he was slightly taken aback that it was remembered at all, and all he could say was, "The correct phrasing is 'Hinata and I,' not 'Hinata and me.'"

"Whatever, man. You did good out there today."

Kiba's sour expression amused Shino, and while compliment warmed him, he kept a straight face. "You mean I did well."

"I'm gonna spray you with incesticide if you don't shut the hell up."

"You mean…insecticide?" Hinata hesitantly chimed in, if only because she was slightly confused and mildly horrified.

He growled again and stomped a foot on the hard ground. "Can you two just—ugh! Whatever." When he began mumbling curses to himself, Hinata laughed, and Shino felt a smile press at the corners of his mouth. "Literally just leave me the f—"

"Kiba," Kakashi called from several feet away, a ninken at his feet. Akamaru's ears perked up. "You and Akamaru go with Akino for a perimeter sweep. I'm taking Bull, Pakkun and Uhei to check out a scent they picked up."

Shino stiffened immediately. "Whose scent?"

"Dunno yet. Probably not important, just covering our bases." The ninken impatiently nudged Kakashi's leg, so he gave a nonchalant wave and walked off. Kiba sighed and sprang to his feet.

"Guess I'll see you guys on the flip." He tutted once and Akamaru leapt up.

"Be careful," Hinata said, and as he walked away Kiba patted her head with the same fondness he reserved for his dog, then flicked Shino's forehead.

As always, Hinata and Shino fell into silence for a little while, though it was a comfortable silence. Suddenly, though, he felt her hand on his leg, just above where it was bent at the knee. He hadn't realized she'd stopped it from bouncing until he set his heel back on the ground.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Shino-kun," she soothed. Her voice was firmer than usual so the urge to keep his leg moving ceased entirely.

He wasn't sure what to say and wasn't quite sure what he was feeling either, but he was glad Hinata understood. The more time they spent alone together, the more he began to see that, and it made him feel able to take a step back from the edge of his nerves. She might have been the only person who could read him underneath everything that obscured him—though, he thought somewhat wryly, it probably helped that she had the byakugan on her side.

Her hand moved to take his where it rested against his thigh. The contact made him start; beyond Kiba's aggressive expressions of camaraderie, it was rare that anyone ever touched him. Cool, gentle fingers plied apart the tight fist he'd been making. His hand shook under hers resting atop, and while the sensation was nothing but pleasant, he started to wonder if he would ever get used to the feeling of being touched.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm nervous too." Hinata's eyes creased into crescents as she smiled sweetly. "Battling always scares me."

Shino turned his hand over beneath hers experimentally, not quite sure what was expected of him, and she instantly wove their fingers together. The slight weight of them in the spaces between his was so foreign to him. There was something about it that gave him a sense of melancholy—he'd gone his entire life without knowing what this felt like.

His voice was thick and caught tight in his throat. "I'm—I'm sorry my hand is shaking." It was starting to sweat, too, but he hoped she wouldn't notice as she gave a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay, I don't mind. I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable, though…" She stared at their joined hands. He could feel her pulse on his palm, or maybe that was just his beating restlessly.

"I see now why this is a method of comfort." A small smile lifted his mouth. "I appreciate this." And he did, more than he could say.

His answer satisfied her enough to bring a pleased blush to her face. After a short while he stopped shaking, and the temperature of her hand began to match his. Shino felt anchored by their connection, almost as if her calm was a chakra being passed to him through her skin.

They sat there for some time, watching as Naruto bounced around across the way, a constant blazing ball of energy brighter than the fire where the rest of the team sat.

"Not to be rude or intrusive," Shino murmured to Hinata, his mouth feeling looser than usual, "but why do you hold so much affection for Naruto?"

Though she was used to his genuine curiosity, which was evident in her thoughtful expression, the tops of her ears and the smooth white of her cheeks still reddened at the mention of Naruto.

"I…um…" She exhaled, her breath light and unsure. "Now that I think about it, nobody's ever asked me that before."

He nodded patiently, considering that, wondering how that was possible when the fact was obvious to everyone but Naruto himself. Hinata turned her eyes from the patch of grass in front of her back to the campfire.

"He's...he's always positive and encouraging, even when things feel impossible." Her free hand twisted in her lap, fingers wrapping and unwrapping around each other. "He's accepting and kind, and..." Shino could see her start to draw in on herself, self-conscious in her confession. "I like that he is so open and carefree. I could never be like that."

Hinata wore her heart on her sleeve just as much as Naruto did, Shino believed, though unlike his teammate, it was Naruto's greatest strength rather than a weakness he'd had to fight tooth and nail to overcome. Hinata still had yet to see how unique her emotional disposition was in a life like theirs, and it was the trait he always respected about her above anything else.

"He…knows what it feels like to be truly alone," she continued. "I always thought he was the only person who understood how I felt until after the chuunin exams."

The last part was said with a voice just barely a whisper—if not for their proximity Shino wouldn't have heard her. He could see that her expression was distant and tense for a solid moment, but then a touch of something, a bit similar to fondness, gradually softened her brow.

"But…" Her gaze turned to his face, her lilac irises mesmerizing as a hesitant, benign smile touched her lips. "I think you know what that feels like too." Her eyes held so much sympathy, so open that Shino felt warmth bloom under his skin, stemming from where they held hands, and it was all he could do to nod.

"Actually," she began, then trailed off in thought, "you and Naruto-kun are a lot alike." After a beat, she seemed to realize what she'd said, and red-pink spread over her whole face and neck.

Shino hardly noticed her chagrin, however—jarred by her comparison, he'd shifted his focus to Naruto, who was currently attempting to engage Sai in some type of a grinding dance, pelvis swinging wildly around as he hollered and wagged his tongue not totally unlike Akamaru. Shino could feel confusion contort his face and drop his mouth open.

Hinata let out a started giggle. "That—no—I mean—" Her voice was increasing in pitch, embarrassment grasping her in its chokehold. "I just meant…I think…"

Shino was patient as he waited for her to get her bearings again, praying for an explanation. He couldn't think of someone who was more his opposite than Uzumaki Naruto. Loud, inappropriate in most situations, rash in the battlefield…Shino almost hoped Hinata didn't see him this way.

"What I meant was that you two are considerate and loyal, especially to your team." Her indigo-black hair fell over her shoulders, hiding her heated face. "Your temperaments are really different, of course…" They both smiled briefly at that, and then she laughed. "Naruto-kun might need to borrow some of your traits if he wants to become Hokage, though…like learning to think before he speaks."

Shino chuckled, mouth closed—he certainly appreciated that comment—but stopped when he saw the humor slowly drift off her face.

"You're understanding of people and tolerant because you…kind of…have been alone a lot." Her fingers caressed the short, dry blades of grass by her knee. "And you know what it's like for people to avoid you because of something that lives inside you."

Shino leaned back against the tree trunk, stunned by how deeply she'd considered not just Naruto, but himself as well. She was the one person who knew him so well, perhaps even better than he understood himself. He suddenly remembered Hinata's hand resting in his own, a gentle pressure on his leg, and felt his heartbeat in several places all at once—his neck, his hands and wrists, the back of his knees.

"You were the first friend I ever had." He barely glanced up in time to see her eyes widen at his sudden statement.

"Really?" she whispered, hand tightening around his.

"Yes." He paused, mulling over how to phrase his next words. "You were the first person who was ever nice to me at the academy, too."

"Shino-kun…" Her free hand came up to curl against her mouth.

He stared at their hands again, memorizing the sensation, the closeness. "And now," he continued, "you're the first person who's ever held my hand." He sensed a flush creep up his neck and ears. It wasn't an easy thing to reveal that only one person in the world dared to show him the simplest joys in life, but perhaps that was what made Hinata so exceptional.

When she didn't respond, he saw that she was struggling to keep tears at bay, her bottom lip quivering with the effort. His heart swelled. Now she was the first person to cry for him, too.

"I'll always be your friend, Shino-kun," she told him, and a smile spread over his face, so wide and real that it hurt his cheeks. She smiled too, tears glimmering in her eyes with what little firelight still surrounded them.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my head, shino's favorite band is daft punk, and his favorite song is digital love. i always listen to it when i'm thinking about this story.
> 
> next update soon-ish. i've only got a couple of chapters left to crank out so i'd love to hear your thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry omg....i updated this on ffnet, but never uploaded the last two chapters here)

They were tired and hungry, exhausted to the core both in chakra and spirit, but at least they weren’t dead.

At that point, Shino felt like he could have been. Every muscle in his body was sore and he was covered in dirt and dust, clothes stiff with blood and sweat. He was severely uncomfortable. He couldn’t stop speculating whether his father was still alive—he hadn’t seen him in days, and with the numbers the way they were, it wasn’t likely that he’d see him back home. 

Shino tried to get his mind off of it by concentrating on the even breaths of a sleeping Hana, Ino, and Kiba laying near him. Their sleeping packs were in a row, limbs tucked at their sides to stay alert and grab weapons in an instant, faces pallid and gaunt with eyes sunken in. They looked like corpses.

He sighed sharply. Clearly he wouldn’t be getting any sleep—a rather upsetting realization since he desperately needed it. 

Earlier in the evening, before setting camp for the night, they’d passed a long stream that wound around the forest. It looked somewhat shallow but cool in the light filtering between the trees, slow enough to bathe in without having to fight against the current. It was a good hundred meters or so beyond where anyone was currently guarding, but thankfully he had no trouble finding his way there; if he did, Hinata was supposed to be keeping watch, so she’d register his chakra signature even at a long distance.

His legs strained as he made his way toward the river. In his current state, a short bath would be all he could manage, but it would be enough. Hopefully he’d been the only person with this idea—there was no way he could successfully fight someone until he got more rest.

As he finally stepped toward the bank, the sound of the water streaming over rocks had an immediate therapeutic effect over his tired mind. A few protruding tree roots and pebbles provided the perfect spot for him to leave his glasses and clothes, all of which he removed besides his boxers. It felt strange being so exposed, especially in a time when vulnerability was deadly, but as he submerged in the cool depth of the river, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He leaned his head back on the edge of the bank to stretch out his stiff neck. The muscles pulled all the way down to his shoulders, tight as samisen strings. He lifted his arms out of the water and shivered when the night air hit the water trickling over him. Rivulets ran down his forearms to his biceps, and a few bugs slipped out at the crease of his elbow and followed the same path, hoping to find some things to eat in the grass behind him.

Shino sighed once more, splashing palmfuls of water onto his face and through his coarse hair. Up until this point, fighting had never exhausted him quite this much. Sure, they were running on empty in terms of food and sleep, but there was something deeper, something that settled in his bones and chest that left an indescribable weight. 

When he was younger, diligently and intently working to become the shinobi he was now, he always knew he’d have to fight like this. He’d accepted that expecting death was simply a part of his life; that he should not be selfish in battle, trying to show off or save himself before others. But he’d never felt strong impulses to do either of these. All he’d ever known to do was fight to defend, protecting his home—both the physical place and the intangible force that surrounded him and helped him feel at peace, reminded him that he at least belonged somewhere.

Now, in the days he and everyone he knew had spent fighting tirelessly, he was taken aback by the thought that there was something that mattered just as much to him, if not more, than his home did: his friends.

As a child, he would never have thought that his team would matter to him as much as they did, nor would he have believed any of the others would accept him with just a few jokes or digs at his own expense in exchange. He had friends who trusted him and believed in him, relied on his strength and powers to keep each other safe, wanted him around, and he found the same in them. It was at once an enormous burden and an immense comfort.

He wondered if his father had felt like this about his mother or his own friends, holding this intense need to protect so close to his heart, enough to threaten to cloud his judgment in the most desperate of times. But as far as he knew, the trait Shino shared most prominently with his father was that of keeping to himself.

This line of thought was hardly doing anything to diminish the thread of worry coursing through him like poison, so he quickly descended further into the water, submerging his shoulders, neck, ears, head. The cold was a shock against his scalp, running like fingers through his thick hair, but the stream seemed to carry his thoughts with it.

For a moment, all was silent around him. Water rushed into his ears, swam across his face and through his eyelashes, traced his skin with fine bubbles. The occasional pebble or piece of grass grazed him, but he could hardly feel them. Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest move to remove sight and sound from the equation when he was alone, not to mention his ability to breathe, but the momentary peace was like balm on raw skin, like milk soothing a burn, and it was perfect.

It was, at least, until something touched his leg and wrapped around it slowly, measuredly—something clinging to him with enough effort that he immediately knew it wasn’t just a clump of dirt or reeds.

Panic gripped his lungs, now aching from too much time underwater, and he sputtered when he launched out, whipping his legs around as he stood. Bugs scraped against his back as they rushed back toward their vessel, ready to strike. Whatever this was, it was stubborn, and he cursed himself for not having a kunai at the ready.

The water was clear enough for him to look down and see a dark mass swirling around him, darker than the shadows of his silhouette beneath the moonlight. The fear and adrenaline whirling down his spine was undeniable, and it was close to paralyzing. Shino was out here alone, with nobody aware of his location or the fact that he was in danger, and he was most likely not in an able position to fight back. 

But he had to try, even if it cost him greatly. 

He reached down to seize the object, gripping it with enough force that the faint pop of a joint reverberated in his arm, and found it surprisingly pliable. Was it mutable chakra from an enemy? A henge? Some kind of monstrous leech? 

Pulling it out of the stream, he found it to be nothing of the sort. In fact, it was some type of fabric, heavy with the water running off it in waterfalls. It looked vaguely like a uniform, but it was hard to know for sure in its compressed state. He had no time to study it, however—he sensed a presence, and it was close.

He didn't have enough time to sneak back to his clothes and weapons; he'd wandered a bit of a distance downstream without realizing. Settling for crouching, he concealed himself behind a taller patch of grass at the water’s edge, arms poised for his kikaichuu to strike at a second’s notice, the wet uniform shoved somewhere in front of him.

A bush rustled softly to the left, and he strained his eyes to see the source of the sound. He was quite adept to seeing at night thanks to his sunglasses, but there didn’t seem to be anything there. Right before he turned to scan the rest of the area, he saw movement, the moonlight giving a sheen to whatever—whoever, he deduced, based on the impression of their chakra—was passing through.

Their chakra. Shino paused for a long, dangerous second, then concentrated harder. He knew that chakra, and the closer it came, the further from danger he felt. His tracking beetle confirmed what he was swiftly realizing: Hinata was here.

“Hinata-san,” he whispered cautiously, voice low but carrying just enough through the darkness. A startled yelp, high and strangled, leapt out of her throat as she came into view; her stance was defensive as she whisked around in his direction. Only her face could be seen from his position, so he could see the second she activated her byakugan. 

Her arms fell just a few inches lower, quite hesitantly at first, then all at once. “Shino-kun? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he replied, revealing himself and climbing out of the water. “What are you doing out here?”

She was so still for a minute that he began to worry something was wrong. Only when her pale eyes went wide as an owl did he become aware of the situation. 

Shino was standing before her in his boxers, and only his boxers—nothing to cover up where his bugs were slipping back into his body now that the threat was gone, nothing to hide his multitude of scars and marred skin, and nothing to cover the eyes he’d shown to no one but his father. He’d been so relieved to see her instead of an enemy that he hadn’t even given a thought to his lack of clothing. Instantly, he felt completely naked, and in more ways than one.

This had never happened to him before, not once. Not even in the bath houses or in unavoidable exposure during missions had he shown more than a forearm or leg by accident. He’d been so careful not to expose himself, knowing it could easily upset or confuse those who didn’t know how his body worked. If Kiba had seen him, it wouldn’t have been much of anything to worry about, as far as Shino was concerned. But now, in front of Hinata, a horrific anxiety was gripping him. He wasn’t sure from where exactly it was stemming, but it was there, clenching and twisting at his insides with abandon.

Of all things to be feeling right then—fear, emptiness, exhaustion, homesickness, or anything else—he was worried that she would find him repulsive. 

He watched as the skin around her eyes smoothed, relaxing back to their natural state, though her brows peaked in confusion. 

“I’m sorry,” Hinata breathed, “I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t recognize you until I saw the bugs. It…” 

She turned away, curling in on herself, and he assumed that this was a confirmation of his worries. His stomach plummeted almost painfully. 

“I was trying to bathe in the river, further up, but…my clothes fell in without me noticing, and I thought they’d be down here.” The part of her profile he could see was darkening the more she spoke. “I didn’t know anyone was out here. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

The pieces all clicked at once: the uniform in the river, her embarrassment, and now as he finally looked at her, he could see her hiding behind her long, dripping hair, clothing merely bandages wrapped around her chest and a pair of simple black underwear. And suddenly, it was his turn to flush a deep red.

“It seems we had the same idea, Hinata-san. You weren’t intruding,” he finally said, voice muted and far calmer than he felt. “I believe I found your uniform, though. Let me get it for you.”

“Oh, that’s…” The damp heap was placed among the grass, cold to the touch. He picked it up and handed it to her, arm extended and eyes to the ground. “Thank you. I was so scared I’d lost it—it’s the only one I have.”

He understood. They’d all only been allowed to bring one, as well as little to no belongings that weren’t battle necessities. Her fingers trembled as they unfurled the ball of clothing, delicate and white against the dark fabric.

“These should probably dry first.” She sighed softly, clearly trying to conceal how upset she was. “Kiba-kun’s on guard now, and he’s probably expecting me back soon, but…I don’t want…”

She didn’t want anyone else to see her, he was sure, because he felt exactly the same in his current state. They were both quite modest for their own reasons, and after his suffocating tangle of emotions had cleared enough to think clearly, his manners kicked in. 

“My clothes are dry. You’re welcome to wear them while you wait.”

Hinata looked at his face this time, then instantly averted her pale eyes. “What about you? I can’t let you go back to camp like…like that.”

She was right. He hadn’t thought that far, so he wracked his fatigued brain for the most logical solution. “I suppose we can share for the time being, if that’s alright with you.”

“Um, okay. That would be nice.” The awkwardness of this all wasn’t lost on him, but Hinata managed a small smile for his benefit

She followed him over to rocks where he’d left his belongings and picked up his clothes, deciding his teammate would be most comfortable if he wore the pants while she wore the jacket, as their height difference was great enough to allow the garment to extend past her knees.

“Here.” Again, he extended his arm toward her and kept his gaze at his feet. “If you find that’s not enough, I have my flak jacket here as well.”

And again, she was completely silent, enough to concern him. Chancing a glance down at her, he found her staring at his neck, most likely at the scab-like holes in the hollows of each collarbone.

“Is that where they…come out?”

What surprised him about her quiet question was not only that she’d asked it, but also that it was asked in neither disgust nor morbid curiosity, instead with genuine interest. It was enough to make him drop his guard—with a great amount of hesitance—and answer her.

“Yes.” His free hand came up to trace the familiar ridges inside the opposing elbow and wrist. “But they usually come out here. It’s more practical during fighting since they tend to follow the direction of my arms.”

“Oh.” The whisper was gentle, full of wonder. “I always thought you communicated with them telepathically.”

“I do, but it didn’t come so naturally my first year or two of training. It seems to be out of habit that we all still follow the same movements.” A fond smile faintly touched his mouth as he recalled his youth; all the times when his father had taken him to hot, dry fields swirling with dandelion seeds, demonstrating how to execute his moves with precision on those long summer days.

Hinata lifted a hand in front of her, then stopped, drawing her lip between her teeth. Before he could even ponder what she was thinking, her fingertips ghosted against his arm, light as a feather. He could feel the tiniest rises and falls in their path as they brushed over the scars of scratches, old and new.

There was something about her touch that made him feel like there was light within him; that it wasn’t all just insects buzzing around inside him, filling the hollow gaps of darkness that at times he thought to be real and not just echoes of hurt or loneliness. It made him feel so human, so present that he could feel the very outline of his heart, feel it contract and swell as it beat out the life he often passively experienced. 

“Does it hurt?” she asked. There was a quality to her voice that made it difficult for him to swallow. “Your insects, I mean. Does it hurt when you use them?” 

“Not at all. Their legs can be sharp if they’re in a rush, which it why it leaves marks,” he said with a slight rasp. “I’ve often wondered the same about your byakugan.”

“Really?” Immediately, she activated it, as if searching for what made him think so. Veins rose from the sides of her brow. “Sometimes it strains, but…only if I use it for too long.”

He was hoping she would keep talking, or maybe to reach forward and let his fingers find her temple, when a shy smile spread across her face. 

“What is it?” 

The smile widened. “I can see them moving.” A finger hovered over his chest, close enough to touch, as she followed the path of whatever bugs she had her sights on. “I’ve always been able to, actually. Is it because they use your chakra?”

All Shino could do was nod. How could he feel so comfortable, so full around someone when was in such a vulnerable position—physically, yes, but emotionally as well? He’d known for a while now that Hinata had a way of crossing the threshold between himself and everything else, even if she wasn’t aware of it. Her kindness, her purity of heart, made it easy for him to be compelled to invite her in, especially in moments like these when she reminded him simply how to feel. 

Hinata removed her hand at the distant sound of a dog barking. Their eyes met once again, but neither turned away this time—they knew exactly who that sound belonged to. 

“I suppose Kiba is looking for us,” he murmured, heart thumping vigorously in his chest, and he was suddenly grateful her byakugan wasn’t in use.

“We should go,” she agreed, taking the jacket he offered and sliding it on. Her hair flowed like ink as she pulled it out from beneath the neckline, the damp tendrils like calligraphy over the back.

He turned to slip on his own clothes, tugging his sleeves down until they hooked over his thumbs and adjusting the collar. When he looked next for his glasses, Hinata placed them in his hand—they’d been tucked into one of his jacket pockets.

“Thank you,” he told her, and was rewarded with a smile.

“You shouldn’t hide yourself, Shino-kun.” Her lavender eyes, soft again without the use of her kekkei genkai, were kind and sweet. “You should be proud of the way you look. It’s a part of who you are.” 

For once, he was absolutely speechless. She’d shown herself to be increasingly accepting of him over time, but this was…more. It pierced him and left something warm in its wake, something blooming with every heartbeat during the silence following her.

“Hinata-san, I…” And then, he was saved by the grace of another one of Akamaru’s barks. What could he possibly say to her to express what he was feeling?

“Come on,” she whispered after a beat, “let’s head back.”

“Okay,” he responded just as quietly.

She watched as he put his glasses back on, and he noticed for the first time how they dulled the hazy light surrounding them. He was almost tempted to take them off again, if just to see how her skin was clear and bright as the moonlight above them, but then she turned to walk back to camp, and he followed. 

This war had changed Hinata. It had made her more open, more sure of herself than ever, and it manifested in a radiance she seemed to physically emit. Shino knew that this war had changed him, too. He felt things more intensely than ever, and while most of it was confusing and cumbersome, there was a lot that stirred him so much, so deeply, so warmly that he could only attribute it to the way she made him feel.

He stared at her hair swaying against her back, wondering all the while if this was what love felt like.

.

.

.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the last one. try not to get a cavity ;)

They had won. It was all over. They'd achieved peace at last, or at least a long respite from trouble of the magnitude reached in the war.

But not everything was at peace within the walls of Konoha. Their economy was in shambles; the community efforts to rebuild the city were still in full effect. Clans were restructuring themselves in the wake of some rather significant casualties. People were still gaining footing after years of fear and traumatizing battles all coming to a head, while some others were shell-shocked after their participation in the second or even third war of their lifetimes.

Shino was grateful, relieved even, that he'd been fortunate enough to return home without the death of a teammate, without much in the way of injuries. He knew he was lucky he could return home at all. The knowledge settled into him with a physical presence, one that crept throughout his mind and laced itself into every thought. He was grateful. He was relieved. He was alive.

Somehow, though, he was still restless, as if his bugs coursed and ran like blood through his entire system. His nerves weren't frayed as they'd been leading up to the war; his anxieties about his team and family coming back alive had ceased the second the fight was over. No, this was different—his heart felt raw around the edges, everything acute and overwhelming.

A hand thumped over his shoulder, and he turned to find Kiba standing behind the bench, Akamaru panting happily beside him.

"What's up, dude?" He jumped over the back to land in a casual crouch beside Shino, his usual snarl of a smile on his mouth. "I feel like I haven't seen you in days."

"I don't believe you have," Shino replied automatically. "I haven't attended many of the festivities since we returned."

He felt his shoulder get bumped with his teammate's. "You're missing out on some pretty crazy parties, bro. I know it's not really your thing, but it's been pretty friggin' sweet. Tsunade's even letting us all drink in public during the street festivals."

"Perhaps it's less that she's allowing you, and more that she isn't paying attention to it. She has more important things to attend to in a time like this."

Kiba frowned in disapproval, eyeing him with a narrowed stare. "Yeesh, lighten up. You should be feeling good right now, you know? Not all crappy and emo."

Shino wasn't sure what he could say to that, because in truth, Kiba was right. As if to punctuate his friend's sentiments, the sun peeked out from behind a cloud then, winking rays of light through the tree beneath which they sat.

"Seriously, what's eating you?" He sniffed, prompting Akamaru to do the same where his head rested in Shino's lap. "You even _smell_ negative."

Shino's brow creased, and suddenly he was a bit self-conscious, much like he'd been around Hinata that night not long ago. It was far less potent here in the daylight while she wasn't with him.

He had hardly seen her since then. The war itself had wrapped up rather quickly after that, especially with the use of the infinite tsukuyomi. Several of her clan members had been killed in battle, so once she returned home, she, her sister, and Neji had to assist her father in memorial services and reassigning duties within the family. He had tried to visit once to extend his condolences—as a teammate, it was the right thing to do, and as a friend it was his duty—but he was denied entry. Only council members and officials were allowed within the compound during the traditional Hyuuga mourning period.

"This about Hinata?" Kiba scratched inquisitively at the bright red line on his cheek. Shino started a bit at his question. While he wasn't the most emotionally observant or considerate person, Kiba was sharp when it came to those people and situations he knew his way around.

"Yes."

A loud clap resounded in Shino's ear, causing his hand to twitch where it sat atop Akamaru's soft head. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" He was curious at such a strong reaction. He didn't think himself so obvious when it came to his worries, but that had proven different around his teammates.

"I totally called it. Something was up with you guys ever since you came back to camp and she was wearin' your clothes." Kiba pushed and poked at Shino's shoulder again. "Did you guys do it?"

"Do what?"

_"Shino,"_ he growled, canine teeth bared in a grin, eyes alight with excitement. "Come on! As your teammate, I got a right to know. Did you guys get freaky?"

It only took a few of Kiba's wild gesticulations for Shino to comprehend his meaning. A wave of hot color made its way to his face over the collar of his jacket, flushing his skin up to his forehead.

"Ab—absolutely not, Kiba." He cleared his throat, hoping to attain the level of sternness he wished to convey despite his pure and immediate chagrin. "We were in the middle of a war—"

"But something did happen, huh?" Kiba leaned in closer, eyebrows moving in tandem. "Huh?"

Shino refused to mention anything about Hinata from that incident—it would be disrespectful to her, he believed, if he revealed something which had embarrassed her at the time. But as for the rest of the night, he felt a compulsion to hide that from Kiba for an entirely different reason. It was like the time he'd seen Neji and Tenten concealed in the garden—he wanted to keep it to himself. Some things weren't meant to be shared, even when they were good things, ones which piqued his curiosity or made him immeasurably happy.

His chest tightened, heart whirling and beating fast beneath his ribs, bugs buzzing and moving fast. He waited for them to calm down before speaking again. There was only one explanation for this.

"I love her," he said, watching his own hand tremble against Akamaru's ear. The dog nuzzled into his palm. Shino remembered exactly the feeling he'd had when they returned to their base that night, how beautiful Hinata looked in the dark, especially when he wasn't wearing his glasses; how whole and light he felt when she spoke to him and made him feel so human, so present. The words felt true on his tongue, resonating within him like they'd been there from the start. And perhaps they had, he wondered, all the way back when she'd spoken to him the first time at school.

Kiba whistled, more breath than sound.

"Damn," he finally managed to say. "I kinda figured you liked her, but…wow."

Shino didn't know how to react, and he didn't move.

"You gotta tell her, man."

His gaze immediately snapped to Kiba, who was staring back at him with an expression he'd never seen from him before. Was he…proud? Shino didn't exactly understand why he would be—and the more he thought about this entire situation, the less he understood at all. This clearly wasn't something he could compartmentalize or hide from. Maybe Kiba's advice was correct.

"Why?" he asked, for the first time not having the answer to his own question.

Kiba shrugged, though he quickly became thoughtful, and after a moment he let himself rest fully on the bench. "Because it's important."

"Our team dynamic is also important, Kiba," Shino replied in a quiet voice. "Telling her how I feel will undoubtedly alter the way we interact, especially if she does not reciprocate those feelings. I don't want to affect how we trust and work with each other—it could ultimately be dangerous for either one of you, as well as Akamaru."

"Well, yeah. You're right about that. But you already changed the dynamic by telling me what's up." He shrugged again. "And you're still gonna be in love with her even if you don't tell her, aren't you?"

"If she doesn't feel the same way," Shino responded promptly, voicing another great worry, "it will be very hard for her to feel comfortable."

"Okay, but—what if she _does_ love you back?"

A bit of a blush made its way back to his face. He hadn't truly considered that, though the smallest part of him had dared to hope for such a lofty thing. "Certainly there's no way to know that without directly—"

"Are you _kidding?"_ Kiba practically shoved him off the bench. "She basically had a stroke every time she saw Naruto! You remember her passing out all the time, yeah?" He snickered devilishly. "Even Naruto remembers that, and he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch when it comes to Hinata."

Naruto. Shino hadn't even considered him as a factor, or _obstacle,_ as the case was. His eyes fixated on the leaves which had fallen around his feet.

Kiba cursed under his breath. "Dude, relax. I think she stopped liking him once she confessed to him and all that other crap happened. And besides, he's either in love with Sakura or has a huge boner for Sasuke." He snickered again, even more heartily this time. "We're all still trying to figure that one out."

He felt weak and helpless beneath the weight of Kiba's friendly hand on his back. It was a feeling that did not sit well with him, one with an unfamiliarity that threatened to turn his stomach. How would he diminish this? How would he ever return to normal?

Could he? Did he _want_ to?

"I'm not sure that…" Shino stayed silent for a moment, gathering his words. "I'm not confident that I know how to carry this out."

"Alright. Now you're just freaking me out." Kiba threw his arm across Shino's shoulders, swaying him back and forth with casual camaraderie. "I got you, bro. I can sniff out the pheromones with this sorta thing, so I'll scope it out. Then once you get some of your confidence back, you can badass your way to the finish line."

He nodded, considering this, and pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. Some objectivity on the whole situation seemed necessary. "Okay."

"Nice." Kiba clapped once more, wrapping up the whole conversation in one succinct move as he stood. "Now let's go talk to the master."

.

.

.

Kurenai's house had always been a clean, comfortable place. Because Yamato had structured a new one for her after the Pein attack, she now had a spacious home rather than an apartment, one filled with sunlight and the smell of freshly brewed tea. There were perfectly cut flowers arranged in vases throughout the living room and kitchen. Shino enjoyed the atmosphere there. His sensei had a subtle but nurturing spirit which showed in everything she did.

She was also highly perceptive woman—it was her biggest strength as a ninja and a trait that genjutsu masters possessed in spades. When Kiba occupied himself with Mirai in the living room, playing a relatively tame round of tag with her and his dog, Kurenai approached Shino where he was steeping tea in a mug.

"It's a bit warm outside for that, hmm?" Her smile was kind and genuine, though it held an undercurrent of an approaching question.

"Perhaps it is, though I'm partial to hot tea over most drinks."

"I know." She patted his forearm—he was too tall for her to reach his head now. It was a gesture he appreciated nonetheless. "It's good to see you, Shino-kun. How have you been?"

It was rare that someone asked him these questions. But now he'd received two versions within the same day, neither of which he was fully prepared to answer.

"Kiba has likely told you about…my recent predicament." Boiling-hot steam hit the edge of his thumb, scalding it, but he didn't move it from the rim of the mug.

"Mhmm. He guessed at it, at least. I was actually hoping you'd come for a visit so we could talk." Another pat to his forearm. "Let's go sit on the porch, shall we?"

Shino nodded, dutifully following her to the back of the house where a screened-in porch resided. Chairs with plush cushions sat around a small table with a vase full of lovely pink peonies. It looked the same as the last time he'd been here to read a rare science textbook Mitarashi Anko had gifted to Kurenai—even though it came from the Sandaime's classified archives, she immediately invited Shino over to study its contents.

Kurenai closed the door behind her, giving them a semblance of privacy, and motioned for Shino to take a seat. She took the one across from him and leaned into its back. It was a long moment before she spoke; a few cool breezes filled the silence, strumming through the wind chimes and leaving delicate twinkling notes as they passed.

"I think…the first time I knew I liked Asuma was during my chuunin exams," she began with in a soft, fond voice. "I'd been using my genjutsu so carelessly that I ran out of chakra the first night, and we had to find somewhere to hide."

Shino watched her closely. She'd never talked about her relationship to Asuma before, at least not with him.

"I felt so stupid. I was trying to prove how good I was, since Asuma was kind of cocky back then." She smiled, red lips curving into a good-natured smirk, eyes with even redder irises turned toward the afternoon sun. "Raidou was so good with kenjutsu, too. My skills were a little different. They weren't visible until I made them so, which meant I got underestimated quite a bit."

He sipped his tea. It was indeed too warm for the day's weather, but it was the same one he drank at home, and the smell of dried its herbs and flowers put him more at ease. He wasn't quite sure what to make of what she spoke.

"They found this little hiding place between some huge tree roots. I was so worried that because I couldn't fight, I would get killed—or worse, that one of them would get killed because of me. People were especially brutal back then."

He immediately recalled what he'd said earlier. His weakness would be a hindrance to everyone, just as it would be in battle. The sweat which had collected at the nape of his neck began trickling down to the collar of his shirt.

"But Asuma sat right next to me the whole time. He let his tough, rebellious facade slip for a little while and let me sleep next to him until I regained enough chakra to fight." Her voice was soothing, framing the memory like an embrace. "He told me that no one would want to fight us there because I intimidated them—that my abilities scared them more than they could scare me. I still remember that huge smear of dirt he had on his face when he said it—he was blushing enough that I could see through it."

She rubbed her arms distractedly, as if she were cold. "That was when we were just kids. Maybe a little younger than the three of you were when you were assigned to me. And it only got worse when we were older. I liked him _immensely_ when we were teenagers, and I knew he liked me, but we were both too stubborn to do anything about it. Both of us were worried our parents would find out, that no one would take us seriously if we were in a relationship."

"Were you still in a team together at that point?" Shino asked, and she smiled as if she'd expected him to ask as much.

"We were. Though the war was longer then, and our clans and units took precedence over our genin cells, so we weren't always fighting together." Kurenai sighed to herself, smoothing her dark hair over one shoulder. "After all of that was over, we went back and forth for years—being in love and hiding our relationship; breaking up and trying to pretend that we didn't want to be together. We only started being a real couple after I became jounin."

While she was speaking, Shino couldn't help but question why she was sharing so much with him. Kurenai had given him plenty of advice and kind words over the years, but neither of them had ever been inclined to reveal much in the way of personal information or feelings. Had she ever talked to Kiba or Hinata this way?

"Shino-kun," she prompted gently. "I'm sure you're wondering why I'm telling you this."

"I am," he admitted. Kurenai simply smiled wider, understanding.

"And I'm sure you're wondering how to deal with your feelings about Hinata, too."

He only nodded once by way of response.

"I wanted to tell you about my relationship because I thought it might help you understand what you're going through."

He considered this for a few solid seconds, retracing the conversation thus far. "How so?"

"Well, I know how intelligent you are, and also how logically you see the world." She crossed her hands over one another on the table. "But everyone is scared of being in love. Especially for the first time."

He stayed quiet while she mulled over her next words.

"Being in love with Asuma made me a lot of things—scared of the future, excited, completely and utterly heartbroken, unbelievably happy. But more than anything, it made both of us stronger."

The image of Kurenai unable to stand by the end of Asuma's funeral came to mind. Then Sakura with Sasuke, Hinata with Naruto…all the same images from the last time he'd thought so hard about the way these relationships worked. Shino shifted in his chair. He didn't think Kurenai-sensei a weak woman by any means, but where lied the strength in love when it only led to a negative or unfulfilling outcome?

"It's a lot like friendship," she continued. "Very much so. You have someone to support you, someone to depend on. Someone to talk to who accepts you for who you are. When you're in love with the right person, you do all the same things a friend does, only unconditionally and more strongly." Her fingers drummed lightly against the table in a slow, cheerful rhythm. "Love is about dedication, security, and trust. It gives you something to look forward to and something to fight for. It adds to your life in a way that makes everything better and brighter. Do you know what I mean?"

And that silenced every other thought. Shino's heart thumped unsteadily in his chest, jumping at her words. They resonated with him more than anything else she'd said.

He thought about Hinata, how she was confined to the Hyuuga grounds until further notice. How despondent she may have grown at the news of the death of some family members, not to mention the lack of encouragement and support from friends who were not allowed on the compound. He wanted to sit beside her in the tea room and hold her hand, exactly like she had for him not long ago. He wanted to let her know that she wasn't alone. He wanted to be with her even if his heart burst from this surge of new emotion.

Suddenly, Shino knew exactly what he needed to do.

"Please excuse me, Kurenai-sensei." His heartbeat was loud in his ears and beat softly in his palms when he pushed back from the table. "I should go."

Rather than being startled by the way he stood without warning, Kurenai simply offered a caring smile, her mystic red eyes seeming somehow clairvoyant while they glimmered in the sunlight.

"I'm proud of you, Shino-kun," she said.

"Thank you, sensei," he replied swiftly, bowing as humbly as he could before leaving her home with a new sense of purpose.

.

.

.

The note sat like a boulder in the pocket of his jacket. He was so aware of its presence there that his palms began to sweat; he wiped them against his pants so that they wouldn't smear the ink when he finally handed it over.

The Hyuuga compound was quiet, the only sounds birds chirping and leaves rustling from the languid, balmy curls of eastern winds. Shino approached the main gate with shoulders squared, determined as ever. Two guards were on standby, both with unactivated byakugan and donning black kimono, as well as an ANBU agent stationed behind the wooden enclosure who kept a quite obviously suspicious eye on him.

"We're not accepting visitations," one of the men said, expression stern. His face was strikingly similar to that of both Hinata's father and Neji.

"I understand, but I'm not here to visit. I would like to have this note delivered to Hinata-san as soon as possible."

"Hinata-sama is in mourning. You may return in eight days to speak with her." The other guard was just as cross, if not more so. Perhaps he'd been there to turn Shino away the first time he'd come to visit.

He was about to contemplate ways to sneak past the guards when a chakra signature flared from the top of the gate. Hanabi gracefully landed between Shino and the other men, turning to the former in a mischievous flourish of black silk and a shroud of hair. She was a short, slight girl, though her posture was impeccably fluid. There was power in the way her brows sat low and sharp over her milky eyes. Unlike Hinata, she'd never been a pleasant or agreeable person—none of the Hyuuga clan members Shino had ever met were—but he could appreciate the subtle way she held herself strong, the way the guards snapped to attention at her entrance.

She looked to Shino, extending a hand for him to place his letter in, and tucked the paper in her obi.

"I'll make sure she gets it." Her voice was startlingly cool and low, very much unlike Hinata's. "It's a good thing you came by. If nee-san dies of boredom, we'll have to extend our mourning period another month."

Then she was gone as quickly as she came, silencing the guards into submission. However, they shook it off quickly enough to glare at Shino, who only tucked his hands in his pockets and walked away, relishing both the fact that he had found a way past them and the nervous excitement fluttering in his stomach.

.

.

.

After more than a day had passed, however, he began to worry.

It was difficult for him not to feel discomfited with the amount of emotions he'd been experiencing even since before Pein's attack. The anxiety had taken its turn, quelled in great part by Hinata—with the help of the one person who had known exactly what to say and had aided him on levels she likely wasn't aware of, he'd dealt with it accordingly, and he had let it pass.

But this was something else entirely. He no longer felt like the same person. It was sending his thoughts into somewhat of a chaos. Shino was experiencing things he'd _never_ felt, a good portion of which he'd never even seen in others either, and therefore had no knowledge from which to draw any kind of conclusions.

Instead, he found himself pacing slowly around his room, hands tucked neatly behind his back, ruminating on the possibilities of the situation. If Hinata had received his note as Hanabi promised, then she would have found a way to communicate with him by now.

The letter had been very brief, asking her to meet him on his own compound once she was able to slip away from her duties. While he normally wouldn't condone shirking responsibilities or breaking tradition, this seemed far more urgent and separate from the usual that he deemed it acceptable to enact. And if Hanabi's statement on Hinata's condition had been true, she was due for a change of scene which he was more than happy to provide. He'd even placed one of his tracking beetles inside the envelope so that she could choose whether or not to wear it—if she did, he'd be able to sense her approach from a rather sizable distance. And if she did not, the beetle would have returned to him.

The fact that it was still nowhere to be seen granted him some much-needed hope.

In the midst of his pacing, Shino kept finding himself near his closet, which drew him temptingly close to his mirror. He'd never cared so much about what he looked like, figuring no one would see him; he'd assumed that he would never get close enough with someone to necessitate the dissipation of such a barrier. But he cared what Hinata thought about him and in so many ways, ways which had haunted him since she'd seen his face.

Did she find him approachable? Trustworthy? More than anything, and quite embarrassingly so, he wondered if she found him… _attractive,_ or at least pleasing to the eye. Shino had always rejected the concept of seeking other's approval, at least from people outside of his clan. With Hinata, however, he wanted her to see him as someone worthy of her time and words. Someone worthy of her thoughts and affections.

He wasn't much to look at, he concluded, at least not in the face—his skin was neither unhealthy nor perfectly healthy in appearance. While it was unmarked by the scratching of kikaichuu or battle scars, it was instead lightly browned by the sun with faint freckles across his nose and cheekbones; there were a few small spots which resided over the thick, dark lines of his brows too. His eyes were brown as earth, nothing near as captivating as Hinata's moonstone eyes. His hair was coarse like dry summer grass, black like a beetle but without the gleaming sheen of its carapace.

If he had to compare himself to others, perhaps the best way he could describe himself was…well, perhaps Shino was plain. It suited him, after all; for all the years he'd flown beneath the radar, it made sense to him that this was how he looked. Now, though, it was hard not to dwell on every detail. Was his nose too large or small to be proportionate? Were his cheekbones too high to be considered aesthetically pleasant? He was tall, which he knew most women tended to find attractive, but he wasn't particularly concerned with their opinions—would Hinata find it an attractive quality?

Shino sighed. Fresh air would calm him down enough to think more rationally, though he would prefer not to think at all. He simply wanted to see Hinata, to know how she was faring in a life post-war with a world of duties ahead of her. He wanted to know whether she was being appreciated, spoken to with respect; if the power she'd worked toward was being rightfully acknowledged.

He didn't have to wait much longer. The tracking beetle resting on his collar stood at attention, honing in on a signal from its companion. Shino scrambled to replace his sunglasses, slipping on shoes as he made his way to the backyard.

The smell of grass hit him immediately when he opened the door, which he barely remembered to shut it on his way out. It was approaching evening at that point, and the air was thick and golden, somewhat dewy from the pond on their land. Light streamed through the trees in a thousand different rays, running over his feet and shoulders as he made his way closer to the signal, to the distant call of Hinata's chakra.

He hadn't realized how quickly he was walking until he saw her. He almost didn't recognize her—rather than her usual light-colored uniform, her formal robes made her appear a dark figure in the forest. It didn't take much more speed for him to catch up to her. It was the strangest thing, the lightness that gripped his body, the way he felt like he was floating across every pine needle and fallen leaf on the ground.

She looked up as he approached. The moment she saw him, her face turned a full shade of pink as if she'd noticed him for the first time, and she halted completely. He felt himself flush at the sight, too—in his excitement he'd come all the way out here to meet her, which he never did unless it was regarding a mission, and it had likely alarmed her.

Shino stood a few feet away from her. "Hinata-san, I did not mean—"

"Shino-kun—"

Both of them started talking, then stopped at the same time. It left them blinking at each other. Hinata's face grew even pinker.

"Sorry," she said meekly, eyes on his feet, hands twisting in front of her. "You go first."

"No, please. You go first." He was fidgeting again.

"Oh, okay." Hinata glanced up at him before looking down again. Shino found himself momentarily stunned. She looked so lovely with her hair tied up in delicate, intricately woven braids which appeared even more violet against the black kimono she wore.

"I got your note," she told him after a moment. "I was happy to hear from you."

"I'm glad that you received it." His voice was surprisingly even despite his bugs thrumming as frantically as his heartbeat. "The guards turned me away whenever I came to see you, so I was grateful for Hanabi's interference. She said you were bored."

Her lashes fluttered like butterfly wings, and she looked everywhere else but at him. "Well, I was, but…"

"Are you alright?" he asked when she didn't continue.

Hinata nodded. "I, um…"

And then she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist in a firm hug with her head on his chest. He could feel his heart beating against his ribs even more strongly where her ear and cheek rested; he prayed she couldn't hear it, though he knew it was very likely she could. The kikaichuu whirred around inside him, trying to figure out what was setting his vitals so off-balance.

Shino very hesitantly let his arms mimic hers, coming up to wrap around her frame. He'd never been hugged before—not that he could remember, at least. It was hard to breathe, though it was more from the wonderfully overwhelming closeness of it than anything else. This had to be a positive sign of _something,_ he thought to himself, placing his palms against the curve of her back.

"I missed you, Shino-kun." He could feel her breath permeate his sleeve as she spoke. The skin there rose into goosebumps. "It's so much easier talking to you than everyone else."

Another good sign, he could only hope. His chest constricted and released, sending an unmistakable warmth through him. The words he wanted to say were climbing up his throat as if they were waiting to break out of a chrysalis.

"Hinata-san," he said, bracing himself, and tried not to get distracted by how her hair smelled like the orchids and lilies in her family's garden. "I have to tell you something."

She stayed still, though her shoulders tensed enough for him to notice. The steadying breath he took was shaky at the edges, though he exhaled it with resolve. He had to tell her.

"Ever since you saw me outside the camp that night, I have hardly been able to stop myself from thinking about what happened." He paused, trying not to speak too quickly. "Nobody else has ever seen my whole face before—even my father has seen me on very few occasions due to our clan's rules and traditions. Because of this, I have been…apprehensive of the way I may seem to others, and I've never been compelled to show anyone what I really look like."

If Hinata was aware of the way she started to grip the fabric at his back, she didn't show it.

"Your reaction not only surprised me, but it touched me so deeply that…that I knew something had changed. You were so compassionate, open-hearted, accepting, not only of my appearance but of my kikaichuu as well—which you've always done, but…"

Another pause, this time to gather the right words. "I have always admired your compassion and how open your heart is. When you told me take pride in the way I am, I—I wanted to become the kind of person who never had to hide myself. I wanted to be with someone who makes me feel whole, someone who understands me for all that I find necessary to conceal."

Shino closed his eyes. It was time to take a leap of faith. He would have to face whatever consequences came, but he had to tell her how much she had moved him, inspired him to be much greater; she had to know how significant she was, even if it was just to someone like him.

"I love you." His hands clenched together on her back. "I have never felt this way about anyone before, but I know that I love you. I understand if you do not feel the same, and if that is so, I will do whatever it takes to put you at ease. But it seemed—Hin…Hinata-san?"

Her entire body was trembling, clutching onto his shirt with unsteady fists. When she broke out of his embrace and turned away, even as gently as she did, he felt his heart and stomach plummet. Shino had been preparing himself for a reaction like this, but it still hit him quite strongly—especially when he considered how much hope he had secretly allowed himself. His hands dropped to his sides.

Hinata was crying. They were quiet sobs and sniffs which she kept contained to the hands with which she hid her face, and each one tugged at his insides with a small but acute kind of pain.

"Forgive me," Shino said in a low voice, regret peeking its way into his tone. "I didn't mean to upset you. This was selfish of me."

"No," Hinata protested, her own voice wobbly. "Not at all. I was"—she hiccuped softly—"surprised. Nobody's ever told me that…that they love me before."

His stomach dropped again, though not in the same awful, severe way as the first time. He hated that he knew how true her words were.

"I hate that I've made you cry," was all he could say.

"Please, don't." She wiped at her eyes over and over. Her breaths went shallow, shrinking her shoulders once more. "I'm sorry. I'm just so happy."

Shino was frozen in place. Not even the sunlight could thaw him, radiantly as it beamed down into the forest. Was she…did that mean…?

He didn't move until she turned back around to look at him with red-rimmed eyes, bright and shining with tears which stuck to her eyelashes.

"Shino-kun." She wiped at a lingering tear, sniffing a bit. "Thank you."

"For what?"

Hinata smiled gently, kindly. "For…everything. For being yourself."

She placed a warm hand on his face, bringing him back to life in an instant. He could feel her hesitance, his own confusion, how new all of this was for both of them. Her hand moved up to his temple, taking hold on his glasses, and he nodded at her questioning look. He wondered if he looked at nervous as he felt—even more so when she removed his glasses, placing them in the chest pocket of his shirt.

The world lit up around him in an instant: every color was fuller, richer; every inch of Hinata's face looked impossibly prettier. Her pearlescent eyes were full of light, illuminated in a way he hadn't noticed with the filter of his sunglasses. He wondered how much he'd missed until now.

"That's better," she said shyly.

"Yes, it is," he replied before he could restrain himself. "I can see you much more clearly now."

She blushed again, her fair skin blooming into azalea pink.

"Thank you for having the courage to tell me. I'm not so brave, but I'm trying." Both of her hands reached up to touch his face, her fingertips ghosting over his cheekbones. There was a genuine tenderness in her expression. "You make me feel special and important. And…I feel the same way about you."

His immediate reaction was disbelief, though it was directed at himself. "What do you mean?"

Hinata shifted a bit, then leaned closer to him, stretching up toward his height on her toes. She was blinking rapidly as she came closer still—and then she pulled his face down, connecting their mouths in one fell swoop.

Shino coughed out of pure shock, which sent him sputtering against her lips, which in turn sent Hinata into a recoil—she kept her hold on his face, though, so they could only meet each other's eyes when she leaned back. His face went as red as hers; he was sure the tips of his ears were the approximate shade of a ladybug's wings.

They stared at each other for a solid moment, incredulous and tense. And then Hinata surprised him more than ever—she laughed.

The sound was as effervescent as silver bells, though deep and true all the same. She laughed so hard that it slowly but surely managed to dissolve Shino's mortification, and everything else he'd been worried about began to fall by the wayside. Despite his self-consciousness, a smile touched his mouth.

"That was an accident," he murmured as she giggled profusely. "Clearly my experience is limited."

"Oh…me too, Shino-kun," she said giddily, a hand covering her fading laughs, the ethereal lavender of her eyes almost luminous. "I didn't plan that very well, did I?"

"To be honest, I also had plans for today." He felt his smile turn rather humored now, especially with the way she was looking at him, fond and as happy as she sounded. "I was hoping to be much more eloquent and for this to go much more smoothly, but it seems neither of us expected any of this."

She beamed at him and reached for one of his hands. Her own felt like flower petals, soft and lovely as velvet against his skin. "I…I'm alright with that, though. We have plenty of time to make up for it now."

Shino's fingers tingled where her own wrapped around them. He couldn't believe this was happening to him, how fortunate he was that everything had led him here. It was difficult for him to even comprehend a time when he'd thought he could live without this kind of connection, this kind of happiness; he couldn't imagine returning to his life before. Not anymore. Not now that had someone to rely on, to fill the places which used to be dark and silent.

Not now that they had each other.

"Would you like to begin making up for it today?" His thumb pressed into her palm. Their pulses flitted against each other, fast and small and simultaneous. "We can start however you see fit."

Hinata simply placed her other hand on their joined ones, closing the distance between them to rest her head against his shoulder once again.

"Maybe later." She sighed, a sound full of relief and contentment and everything else he was feeling too. "I think I'm okay right here."

And with that, everything else fell away but one single feeling. Shino suddenly understood everything Kurenai had said. He didn't just feel strong with Hinata, here in the forest where it was just the two of them, his heart pumping more fully than he'd ever been aware of.

He didn't just feel strong knowing that their sentiments were mutual. He was unsure about where they were going, yes, and he still had quite a lot to tell her, a lot to figure out. But it was just as Hinata said—they had plenty of time to figure things out, to explore something so new and meaningful. She wove their fingers together, and he knew his life of solitude was effectively over.

And that, he thought, would make anyone feel invincible.

.

.

.


End file.
